Through the Summer Months
by Smoltenica
Summary: "Luna became a very famous wizarding naturalist... ended up marrying... a fellow naturalist and grandson of the great Newt Scamander!"- JK Rowling. But what, then, of Neville? Neville/Luna
1. Unwritten Letters

**Something Strange**

She had been gone for weeks.

And he still hadn't written her.

_Dearest Luna_, he wrote, but the quill was scratchy, and the wording seemed- wrong. Couldn't he do any better? _Dearest Luna- _Merlin's beard- who called their friend that? It was too- well, _personal. _

He crumpled the parchment and threw it onto the overflowing wastebasket. Why couldn't he think of anything to write? Luna was his best friend, wasn't she?

_And more,_ a voice whispered in his head. Neville angrily batted it away. Luna was just a friend, he knew that, and she felt the same way about him. It was purely platonic. And as such, it was wrong to write letters in which he called her "dearest".

But he needed to write Luna a letter- he missed her sorely, and the last note she had sent him carried an almost accusatory air about it. She wrote to him, but he had barely communicated with her. And it hurt.

But what to say?

There was something about this trip away- something- that was entirely different. It wasn't that Luna was off hunting strange and unusual creatures- he was used to that. No, it was more to do with the fact that Luna was simply away.

But why? She had gone away before. She had been gone for months last time. Then she'd come traipsing to his door with a dandelion chain and they'd gone to Diagon Alley for ice cream at the new Fortescue parlour, and everything had been so _natural. _

But this time-

Maybe it had been the going away party. There had definitely been something different about that going away party.

"_I'm going to Iceland, Neville," said Luna, in that slightly dreamy way of hers._

_Along with the other twenty people at the party, Neville knew that. "I hope you have a good time," he said instead, rather awkwardly. "And- er- tell me if you see any- Cactypuls."_

_The moment he said it, he could have kicked himself in the shins. Iceland was the only country the Orange Cactypuls weren't found in- hadn't Luna told him that herself, just two weeks ago?_

_But Luna only nodded, staring into the distance. Her eyes were misty and far-off, and her hair was blowing gently in the wind. _

_Neville felt something twinge in his heart, and felt immensely embarrassed._

"…_Luna?" he asked, instead._

_Luna turned, then- Neville had never really noticed the depth of colour in her eyes- and gave a small smile. "I'm going to miss you," she said, matter-of-factly, and then she did something she'd never done before, and kissed him on the cheek. Then, without another word, she walked off, across the hill, and Apparated. She didn't look back._

That wasn't something Luna did. She didn't walk away from parties, not ever. She hadn't even walked away from her first party, when that certain famous partner of hers abandoned her halfway through the night. And then- the _kiss_- Neville didn't know what to make of it.

With a groan, he flopped himself into his chair.

Luna wouldn't be back for another week.

And it was nearly July, and he still hadn't written to her.

_A/N: Wow, it's been ages since I updated here! I just want to say a HUGE thanks to my wonderful beta, Almyra, who's been a great friend and 'mentor', and also to fledge, whose constant encouragement has finally propelled me to upload this fic. And thank you also to JKR, for writing the wonderful Harry Potter series, even if you later released statements about how Luna would marry some 'Rolf Scamander'. In doing so, you actually gave me the premise for this fic, so I believe that I am indebted to you there, too. _


	2. An Invitation

An Invitation

He had just about finished burning the contents of his wastepaper basket, and was staring glumly into the flames when Ginny's head popped merrily into the flames.

"Hello Neville," she smiled, and he jumped, snatching at his wand and breaking the vase by the lounge in the process.

"Dammit," he muttered. The vase had been Gran's. "_Reparo." _

Ginny laughed fondly. "You needn't be so jumpy, Neville, the war ended _years _ago."

"War over or not, you shouldn't have sprung up on me like that," he said, slightly mulishly.

Ginny sighed impatiently. Neville glared.

He'd never fancied the Floo network. Ginny's head looked ridiculous, suspended in the middle of the flames. Besides, Luna didn't like it.

_Luna. _

He suddenly had a burning desire to write her a letter, to send it wherever she was, just a random note, saying nothing at all. But she hadn't sent him anything, not since last week. And she used to write every day.

"Well, when you're finished sulking, I have something to tell you," Ginny said, slightly waspishly.

Neville angrily batted his thoughts away and forced a look of interest onto his face. "Sorry about that. What were you saying?"

"Oh, just a little. He doesn't sulk _purposely,"_ Ginny's head said, and Neville could only assume that Harry was standing beside her. "Yes, yes, I know. Oh, _Harry. _Just because youcan be a prat- you silly fool, of course I love you! Oh, fine."

A fly buzzed past the window.

"Ginny?" Neville ventured.

"Oh!" Ginny turned her face to him once more and beamed. "Yes, Neville. As I was going to say, it's James' first birthday on Saturday, and we were hoping you'd come."

"Saturday 24th?" said Neville. "I'm not-"

"Rubbish, of course you'll be there," Ginny replied, somewhat absently.

Neville rather doubted this. He did not enjoy the thought of seeing his friend's children's birthdays, not where everyone was married and happy- or engaged and happy- and where he felt rather left behind. It was all right when Luna was there, because she wasn't married either, and they could just go and talk like the good old days, but she wasn't _in _England, was she?

"Oh, and Luna will be there. She Owled me ten minutes ago," Ginny added. There was a glint in her eyes Neville didn't quite appreciate, but before he could say anything, she disappeared from the flames.

"Ginny, wait!" he shouted, feeling rather stupid.

The fire was still crackling. After a quick glance outside, Neville put the fire out and grabbed his wand. He needed to go shopping for James' present. It was already Thursday.


	3. At Grimmauld Place

**At Grimmauld Place**

As the door to Grimmauld Place opened, Neville was bowled over by a blur of colour. When he had finally reoriented himself, he found himself staring at a green fringe.

"Hey Teddy," he said weakly, wondering why the floor suddenly seemed so far away. He slowly clambered off the floor.

Teddy grinned. "Hey Uncle Neville," he said, and blinked; Neville found himself staring at his own face, on the body of an eight year-old, and felt dizzy once again. Before he had time to fully recover, Teddy had grabbed his hand and was bounding down the hallway and up the first flight of stairs.

"Uncle Harry!" he yelled. "Uncle Neville's here! Everyone is, you know," he added seriously, looking as stern as an eight year-old could. "You're very late."

He pushed the drawing room door open, and ran inside.

The party was in full swing. Neville wondered dimly why he hadn't come sooner- he had some brief recollection of trying to find a present, and standing in line behind a very confused witch who seemed to think she was in Cumbria- and scanned the room.

"I knew you'd come," Ginny beamed, somewhere from his left, and he turned around in relief to see her bouncing a gurgling James in her arms.

"James! Say hello to your Uncle Neville!"

For a baby, James could look very wary and distrustful. Feeling a little awkward, Neville pulled out his hastily wrapped present- the latest child broomstick model, though he suspected Harry had already gotten it- and handed it to Ginny over James' face.

"Er, happy birthday, James," he said.

"Oh! Look, another present, James!" Ginny cooed. "What do you say to your Uncle Neville?"

James gurgled and Neville grinned. When he wasn't frowning, James was a very cute baby.

"That's ok," he said, and James nodded seriously before closing his eyes.

Ginny laughed. "He still hasn't gotten used to the concept of time."

Neville nodded, scanning the gathering. He caught a fleeting sight of blonde hair, but it was only Victoire playing with Marie.

"… Are you listening to me, Neville?"

Neville looked at Ginny somewhat guiltily.

"Yes," he said, feeling quite untruthful.

Ginny smiled in a manner that Neville didn't quite like. "She's there," she said, casually gesturing to her left.

Neville quickly turned around, and his heart rose considerably.

"Go on, you probably haven't seen each other for a while," she grinned, and pushed him in Luna's direction.

"Luna!" he called, hurrying forwards.

Luna shot him an inscrutable expression, and only then did Neville notice that a man was standing beside her. A tall man with dark features and a fair complexion. He looked, Neville thought distastefully, rather like a dandy.

All the same, he fidgeted in his robes, and found himself fiddling with a hole in his left sleeve. He should have worn a better set of robes today.

"Luna," he repeated, and she gave him the same unreadable expression.

"Hello, Neville," she said, and Neville felt a slight pang at the distant greeting. Hadn't they been best friends for the past seven years?

But before he could ask what was going on, the man beside Luna leaned down and whispered something in her ear. And Luna blushed.

Luna never blushed. What was this?

"Who are you?" he shot at the man, and the man looked slightly amused.

"I should have thought you might have guessed. I'm told I look an awful lot like my grandfather did at this age," he said mildly.

Neville looked sharply at Luna, who at least had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Neville, this is Rolf Scamander," she said.

Scamander. Where had he heard the name before?

Oh, that was right, it was Newt Scamander Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

And the man- grandfather-

"He's the grandson of Newt Scamander," said Luna. "Rolf, this is Neville, Neville Longbottom. He's been a close friend of mine for many years. Rolf…" and she looked at him almost pleadingly.

Neville felt an incredible urge to punch Rolf Scamander.

Rolf Scamander nodded. "Nice to meet you," he said placidly, nodding at Neville.

"Nice to meet you too," Neville said coolly, feeling somewhat immature. "Luna-"

"I'll see you round," she said quickly, before taking Rolf Scamander's hand and hurrying away.

"See you round," Neville muttered sulkily, staring at the ground.

--

_A/N: I'm soooo sorry for the delayed updates!! (It's been a couple of nightmare filled months, with speech competitions, school exams, music exams, diplomas and misshapen cakes. -bows head in shame-)_

_If anyone is still following this, you have my utmost apologies. I hope you enjoy these ridiculously short chapters._


	4. Visiting Harry

**Visiting Harry  
**

"Who is that bloody Rolf Scamander, anyway?" raged Neville, storming around Harry's office. "And who does he think he is that he can just- _turn up _at one of _our _events, just like that- and act as though he _belongs _there, as though _he _were one of _us_?"

Harry looked up from his desk. "I think you're overreacting, Neville," he said mildly. "Rolf Scamander is a rather nice and polite person."

"Bland," Neville sneered. "And he dresses like a dandy."

Harry quickly ducked his head, and Neville thought he caught the glimpse of a smile.

What right had _Harry _to smile?

He scowled.

"Sit down, Neville," Harry said pleasantly. Neville did so, grudgingly.

"Pumpkin juice, or would you rather Butterbeer?"

"Neither, thanks" he said shortly, staring across the room. "Farmers mustn't be tending their crops properly; the pumpkins are all strangely bitter this year. I'm not thirsty, anyway."

Harry shrugged and poured himself a cup, then peered intently at Neville.

"You didn't have a fight with Luna, did you?"

Neville nearly fell out of his chair. Merlin's beard, was that what people _thought_? He and Luna _never _fought, had never fought- and even if they _did, _Luna wouldn't be going around with- well, even if they _did _fight, they would have made it up, wouldn't they?

"N-no," he said, staring at Harry. "What- how did you get _that_-"

"Ah, I never really got Occlumency; it's not surprise I didn't learn Legilimancy- but what a shame," sighed Harry. He spotted Neville's face, and quickly added, "It's probably just my not understanding properly- Ginny's always rattling on about that. Don't worry."

But Neville couldn't shake the uncomfortable feeling from his stomach for the rest of the day. He and Harry worked in silence for the rest of the day, Neville discarding several lesson plans for his third years, before deciding to stick with his first idea.

The sun was starting to set when Harry finally finished his paperwork.

"Oh," he said, slightly indistinctly. "I must have lost track of the time. So sorry, Neville."

"It's all right," said Neville. "Er, I suppose I'll be going now. Sorry for- this morning." He turned around, and took an immediate step backwards. "I think you've got an owl, Harry."

"Really?" said Harry lightly. "Well, I suppose I should read that letter. Teddy is starting to write stories, you know."

The owl flew over and promptly landed on the desk. Harry opened the letter.

"Ah," he said, "so _that's _why."

Neville moved across the room.

"So, what's that-"

But Harry had already crumpled the letter.

"I think this will do quite nicely, don't you, Neville?" he said cheerfully, transforming the parchment into a paper dragon. "And what do you say to coming over for dinner? Andromeda and Teddy will be visiting."

"Er- sure," said Neville, still staring at the dragon. What _had _that letter contained?

"Brilliant," said Harry, apparently oblivious. He scooped up the dragon and pocketed it. "Well, we'd better go- Ginny was rather annoyed the last time I was late. Apparently James threw a tantrum and refused to eat his strained vegetables."

Neville thought that he would, too, despite his significantly older age, but chose not to say anything. James wasn't his child. Instead, he gathered up his belongings and stared out the window- trying not to think about he and Luna should be sitting by a lake or having dinner in Diagon Alley by now- and Apparated to Grimmauld Place.

As Andromeda Tonks opened the door to let him in, he thought he saw a flash of silvery blonde hair in the distance, and shook his head.

He must be getting really hungry to be imagining such things.


	5. A Very Awkward Dinner

**A Very Awkward Dinner**

He spent the majority of the evening listening to Teddy's stories about the magical dragon whose best friend was called Remus, and absently patting James- who seemed to be as fond of Teddy as his own mother- but his mind was elsewhere, and he found himself asking Teddy to repeat his stories more than once.

"You ok, Neville?" asked Harry after Teddy's third retelling of how Remus discovered the dragon's name, and they'd flown off into the sky to play with the stars.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Neville said, shaking his head and blinking, and wondering why on earth he was thinking about wrackspurts and spectrespecs. "Why?"

Harry looked pointedly at the table, and Neville realised his elbow was in the butter dish.

"Er, sorry about that," he said, flushing slightly. _"Aguamenti." _

He half wondered why his elbow was not clean, and why Andromeda and Ginny were exchanging knowing glances, when he realised- with some level of horror- that he had instead conjured up water, and that it was flying off the candelabra like a wild fountain.

"Cool, Uncle Neville! Can you do that again?" shouted Teddy, morphing his hair to a vivid shade of blue. James gurgled, waving his hands at the water.

"No, he most certainly can _not," _said Harry sternly, but he was smiling as Neville quickly ended the spell and hurriedly began cleaning up.

As he was bending down to remove a small puddle, he felt something warm spill down his back.

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Ginny blithely. "Neville, come to kitchen, I'll help you get rid of all that soup. Harry, you _will _make sure that James eats a little dinner, won't you?"

"Ginny-" said Harry suspiciously.

"Oh, Harry, I grew up with six older brothers. I _know _what to do with silly soup spills," said Ginny, matter-of-factly.

"Ginny-"

"I _know _what I'm doing."

Neville almost heard her eyes flashing.

"Yes, of course dear," said Harry quickly. "Now James, let's try this again. You open your mouth- ahh- and _swallow _the carrots! Mm!"

"Come on, Neville," said Ginny, taking his hand and leading him away. "Let's not get you covered in strained carrots, too."

She led him away into the kitchen, sat him down, murmured several spells, and smiled.

"There you go," she said.

"Thanks," said Neville gratefully, smiling at her. Then his jaw dropped.

"Ginny," he gasped, "how far along _are _you?"

For Ginny's stomach suddenly seemed twice as large as it had ever been, and she was positively glowing as she rested her hand on the bump.

"Eight months," she said, proudly, "ooh- and there's another kick!"

She looked at his bewildered expression and laughed.

"Eight- eight _months? _How did I miss it?" stammered Neville, and Ginny patted his arm.

"You've had a lot on your mind," she said, her eyes sparkling. "I'd wager you were very intent on finding Luna on Saturday- you didn't even comment on the Mimbulus Mimbletonia Hannah's been tending for the past three weeks."

"Hannah has a Mimbulus Mimbletonia?"

Ginny grinned.

"If _Luna _had a Mimbulus Mimbletonia, I'm sure you wouldn't need to ask after three weeks," she said.

Neville didn't like the tone of her voice. "Luna wouldn't get a Mimbulus Mimbletonia without telling me," he retorted, "and she's not Hannah Abbot."

"Mmm," sighed Ginny. "Poor Hannah. And I suppose that's the point, really."

Something squirmed in Neville's stomach, and he was sure it had nothing to do with getting butter on his arm or soup down his back.

"What do you mean?" he said, suspiciously.

"Oh, you know perfectly well what I mean, don't try to pretend you don't," snapped Ginny. "Rolf Scamander wouldn't have bothered you half so much if he hadn't been there with Luna."

"Well, of course he wouldn't have!" said Neville hotly. "Luna's my best friend!"

"And I suppose that means you should be her _only _friend?" replied Ginny, with a significant look.

"Well- no," said Neville, frustrated. "Of _course _Luna's going to have other friend. But she didn't _tell _me she'd met him or anything-"

"Maybe she would have if you'd written to her-"

"- And besides, it's the whole _idea _of-"

"Him being the one Luna attends parties with, when you've been close friends for so long?" Ginny finished knowingly.

Neville still didn't like the tone of her voice.

"That's not-" he began, but his voice trailed off. An image flew into his mind, too quick and too strong to be dispelled- Luna was holding _his _arm, looking up at _him _with her large, soulful eyes, and he was fending off strangers who wore impeccable robes and spoke in insulting monotones, and-

"You should really write to her," Ginny's voice said.

He blinked.

"I would, but…"

He looked down miserably.

"Heavens, you're thicker than _Harry," _Ginny sighed fondly. She reached out, and gave his hand a small squeeze before standing up. "Neville, how long has it been since Luna and I graduated?"

"Six years, ten months and three days," Neville replied automatically.

Ginny nodded. "I see. And how long have you been in love with our enigmatic friend and naturalist Luna?"

Neville choked. And yet he knew, had always known-

"Six years, ten months, three days- and possibly longer," he stammered.

A sudden, horrible thought hit him.

"Does anybody else know?"

"Yes," Ginny yawned, rolling her eyes.

Neville jerked from his seat.

"Does _Luna _know?"

"Possibly," Ginny said, fixing her hair.

"But-"

She leaned forwards to face him.

"What you need to do," she said, "is owl Luna, and tell her how you feel. Is that so hard?"

"But- _Rolf Scamander!" _was all Neville could moan, burying his face into his hands.

Ginny sighed.

"_Men," _was all she said, then she briskly clapped her hands together and wheeled him out into the dining room. "I think it's time to finish dinner."

-

_A/N: Ten points to whoever can name the movie reference. Also, thanks to fledge, for reading over the past two chapters. Your help is much appreciated! To those who are still reading- and reviewing- you guys rock and I love you. _

_God bless!_


	6. A Long Awaited Date

_A/N: Oh my goodness, it has been such a long time! My sincerest apologies to you all, and a great thanks if anyone is still reading this. *hangs head in shame* I have no real excuse, this thing's been typed up for ages, I just wasn't quite... happy with it. _

_Oh well, if anyone has any major issues with this chapter, let me know, and I shall take it down and revamp it! Anyhow, as they say, upwards and onwards...  
_

A Long Awaited Date

_Luna, _

_Are you free tomorrow at 11? I'll be waiting at the Leaky Cauldron. Please come. I miss you._

_Neville_

He sealed the letter, tied it to the barn owl, and sent it to Ottery St Catchpole. He watched as it flew into the distance. The sky was like a never-ending blanket, resting softly over the hills. Luna would be behind those hills, somewhere. What would she be doing when the letter came? Fishing for tadpoles? Searching for some other highly unusual animal? Or, perhaps- his heart beat wildly at the thought- perhaps-

"Excuse me, sir?"

Neville felt a twinge of irritation.

"Yes?" he said, rather tartly.

"I was just wondering if you were all right," the man shrugged. "You've been standing here nearly half an hour."

Merlin's beard, had it been that long?

"Er, no, I'm per- I- I'm fine," he stuttered, feeling slightly disoriented. "Er, goodbye, then."

-

Neville slept badly.

He was looking for Luna, and he could see her silvery blonde hair ahead of him- but even as he moved towards her, the world melted-

And he was in Greenhouse Three once again. Term had started, and he was pruning a Flutterby Bush with his old first years, trying to control a particularly bright and impish girl named Ruth. "Watch me, Professor!" she cried, easily de-potting the bush.

"Miss Franklin, put that back into the pot!" he ordered, when the scene suddenly changed; the bush became a lethifold, unfurled itself, and began wrapping itself around him. He cried out, and it changed again; now he was staring into those red eyes that haunted his nightmares for months after the Battle. He turned around madly, but now all he could see was darkness, all he could smell was the smoke. Then something heavy hit his head, and he grasped out-

"_So, Mr Longbottom, finally we meet"- _and Rolf was there, smirking- _Rolf_, of all damned people!-

A flash of silvery blonde hair-

And Neville was running again.

Luna was sitting by their favourite lake, just outside her house.

"Where were you?" she asked, accusingly. "I waited all day."

"I was there!" Neville protested, but she only looked at him, her eyes cool. "Luna!"

He started after her, but he strode through the grass into the hall of St Mungo's.

"Here, take my signature! It's in purple ink!" Gilderoy Lockhart cried excitedly, bustling out of his ward, but when Neville took the parchment, it immediately crumpled into ash.

Then the scene changed yet again; he was facing Bellatrix Lestrange, and she was taunting him- _"Little Longbottom, about to join his mumsy dearest?" _

He raised his wand to curse her, but his hand was empty- now Bellatrix was laughing at him, her laugh echoing wildly around the walls. He ransacked his pockets, and felt something in his right pocket, but when he pulled it out, he found he was only holding a Remembrall.

"He never did get it, did he?" said Uncle Alphie, shaking his head.

And then he woke.

-

Neville was still slightly shaken by the dream as he made his way to Diagon Alley the next morning. There was a slight throbbing at the back of his head, and, if he had not known otherwise, he'd be blaming the unopened bottle of Firewhisky in the pantry.

He was passing Flourish and Blotts when he saw Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil, the latter sporting a thin band on her left hand, and smiled. Susan Bones caught him outside Fortescues- "You really _must _try this new flavour!"- and they chatted briefly, until the clock caught Neville's eye, and he rose to leave.

He didn't want to be late. After all, he had years to catch up for.

-

A flurry of figures passed by the window, laughing. Neville sighed and looked away. He should have known, he should have expected it. Why should Luna come, after all? He hadn't been in contact with her for months. He checked his watch again.

It was a quarter past. _Luna wouldn't be late- _would she? She could be awfully absent minded at times, but she was usually quite punctual when it came to meetings- and friends.

_Friends, _he thought glumly. _Some friend I've been._

Suddenly, an image of Rolf whizzed through his mind, and he slammed his drink onto the table.

"Hello Neville," said a small voice.

Neville's heart leapt as he looked up.

"Luna!"

He stood up quickly, almost knocking his mug over in the process, and enveloped her in a hug. Luna froze a moment before relaxing.

After a moment- or several- Neville stepped back.

"You look great," he said, and meant it.

Her robes were a slightly faded shade of turquoise, and her hair tumbled across her shoulders, and it was all so very _Luna _that Neville wanted to freeze that moment in time and disappear.

A strand of her crept across her face, and he reached out a hand to brush it away, but she flinched. He withdrew his hand, stung.

"Why didn't you write to me?" she said without preamble, not quite meeting his eyes. "I wrote to you, every day for three weeks, and you never replied."

He had been expecting this question, and he had- somewhere- prepared some sort of answer. But it seemed insipid even as he opened and closed his mouth.

"I tried," he mumbled miserably, staring at the ground. "I- I wanted to, I really did. I just- I couldn't find the words."

Feeling completely wretched, he looked up at her, and regretted it almost instantly. Her eyes had lost their dreamy quality.

"You 'couldn't find the words'_?" _she repeated, tiny spots appearing in her cheeks. "You couldn't find the words_. _I cried for three weeks because Neville Longbottom _couldn't find the words_."

Each word stung.

"I'm so, so sorry, Luna," he said. "I- didn't know." It sounded even flimsier an excuse than it did in his head. And now Luna's words were pounding in his head…

_I cried for weeks… Every day for three weeks… Why didn't you write? … You never replied… Couldn't find the words… Couldn't find the words! _

Luna made a small choking noise and turned away.

"You didn't know! You're _sorry? _Oh, why am I even listening?" She gave a short, slightly hysterical laugh. "I've waited years for a man who can't _write _to me, doesn't speak, who never returned any care!"

"I bloody well care for you!" Neville roared, chair scraping as he stood to face her.

"You've got a funny way of showing it," Luna replied coolly. "I'm leaving."

"You can't _leave," _Neville said desperately, clutching at her bag.

"Oh, and why can't I?" she snapped, pulling at her bag. "Why on _earth _do I have to stay?"

"Because I LOVE you!"

It were as though a huge weight had been lifted form his heart, as though someone had thrown open the window and he'd only just realised the darkness he'd been living in. It was a blessed relief- the freedom to say how he felt!- it was exhilarating.

He realised only a moment later that he had shouted it to a full room. People were staring. A young girl goggled at him as her ice cream dripped onto her lap.

"I love you," he repeated, softer and more gently.

Luna stood, rooted to the spot, her eyes large and glassy, fixed on him, her mouth slightly open in shock.

"I know I've made a royal mess of everything," he continued quickly, "and I know you have every, every right to be angry, but I love you, I always have, and I always will. And I don't deserve it- not for being such a classic fool- but please say you'll give me another chance, Luna, _please." _

Something moved in Luna's eyes, a glimmer, and, against his will, he dared to hope.

Then she turned away, and the spell was broken.

"What about Rolf?" she asked, and her voice was so low and quiet Neville strained to hear her.

"Well, what about Rolf?" he said, with a stab of annoyance, and something deeper- _fear? _

Luna shook her head tearfully, and when she spoke, it was in a small, quavering voice.

"Neville," she said, "Rolf and I are engaged."

Had he heard correctly? The world was spinning. It was as if this were some bizarre dream- like the one from last night- any moment now, he would wake up. Any moment now, his heart would start beating again, and he would feel less numb. Any moment now, and everything would be normal, and Luna would tell him she was only joking- they'd go fishing for tadpoles after this, and it would be another lazy summer afternoon in the sun- any moment now, any moment-

"He asked me last night, and I _do _care for him- honestly, I do, and he cares for me, and- I- didn't know…" Luna faltered and bit her lip. "You didn't write, and I thought you'd never care- you didn't say anything after the party, and I thought I'd offended you- I thought I'd have to get over you, and when I was in Switzerland, Rolf was there, and we became friends, and he helped me-"

How could she keep talking when his world had ended? How could he still be listening, registering each word she said- knowing that he had lost his opportunity, that Luna would never, could never, be his? And how could she still be so breathtakingly beautiful when he could never have her? She was Rolf's- or, rather, _he _was _hers. _

He couldn't even find it in himself to be angry.

But the roaring in his ears grew, and the throbbing at the back of his head began pounding louder and louder, till he felt the blows with each passing second.

"I need to go," he said, and walked to the Apparition point. How he could move so easily, he vaguely wondered, but the thought seemed to vanish from his mind. (Was it even his? It felt so… foreign.)

He half hoped Luna would follow him, but then- why should she? She was going to marry Rolf Scamander.

He closed his eyes and grasped at his wand.

_Home, _he thought, but at the last second, Luna's face flew into his mind- Luna at the café, Luna, staring into the distance, Luna, looking so white and small and sad, and just a little vulnerable- then there was a splitting pain, and a blinding burst of light. He looked down and swore.

He had splinched.

* * *

_A/N II: Well, there you have it... Consider the length a peace offering, if you will. I'm not excessively pleased with this, but please, feel free to drop by and leave a note on what you think! Cheers._


	7. A Summary: What Would Have Followed

To my readers-

When I began this story I was sure that I'd finish this fic. I was excited by the Neville/Luna hints in the Harry Potter books and the films and was furious when I learned that JKR had married Luna off to some unknown great-nephew of a textbook author. I still am, to be perfectly frank- I think Neville and Luna are perfect for each other and always will be.

Now, a year and a bit later, my steam has run out.

**But **because I hate reading abandoned stories, I don't want to leave you empty-handed. A short summary of what I had initially planned will now follow, with snippets of scenes pre-written.

-

**Chapter Seven **

Neville wakes up in St Mungo's. He thinks he sees a flash of pale blonde hair, but when he opens his eyes, Ron and Ginny are there to cheerfully greet him. He spends a bit of time feeling rather morose until Harry drops by to visit; Harry reveals that Luna did, in fact, spend several hours at the hospital, but left as soon as Neville began to wake up.

_Excerpt: _

"Pretty nasty splinch, mate," said Ron cheerfully, throwing himself into one of three chairs beside Neville's bed. "You feeling ok now?"

It was 8 o'clock inside a private ward at St Mungo's. It had taken over six hours to fix everything up, and half a division from the Ministry had needed to modify over a dozen Muggles' memories by the end of the day.

Neville gingerly touched his side.

"Guess I'm all in one piece now," he said, and stared listlessly at the white curtains.

"Lovely and excited today, aren't we?" yawned Ron, and Neville sighed impatiently.

"Oh, leave him alone, Ron," sighed a very welcome but bleary voice. Neville raised his head from the pillows and saw Ginny, standing in the doorway, a tiny piece of parchment in one hand. "You should probably go find Hermione- the Mediwitches have some news."

Ron instantly bounded up. "It's a girl, isn't it?" he roared, punching his fist into the air. "And she'll be just as brilliant as her mother- barking mad and a genius! Where's Hermione? Where is she?"

He ran out of the ward before Ginny could give him any more information.

Ginny shrugged, and eased herself into the chair Ron had just vacated.

"Hey," she said, gently, reaching out to give his hand a gentle squeeze. "I heard about Luna."

"I was too late," Neville mumbled. His eyes were starting to burn. He blinked furiously.

"I'm sorry," Ginny said softly.

Neville shook his head.

"No need- you were honest- you helped me see."

He took a sip from the goblet on his bedside, and leaned back with a sigh. His eyes were starting to feel heavy.

"Anyway- thanks," he murmured, as the room began to shrink and darken. "Thank for being here"

He vaguely felt Ginny's hand squeeze his one more time, then fell into a dreamless sleep.

-

"Not your week, is it?" said Harry, sympathetically. "You can fight Dark Wizards and destroy their Horcruxes and somehow it's almost always _women _that can make you feel worst."

Neville snorted.

"Had another argument with Ginny?"

Harry threw his hands up with a laugh.

"She almost always wins. And on that note, I'd better run- Gin's been having cravings for Cornish pasties at exactly six fifteen in the evening. See you tomorrow."

He stood up, gave Neville an awkward clap on the shoulder and turned to go. Neville watched him leave with more than a tinge of envy.

At the door frame, he abruptly stopped, turned around, and gave an awkward smile.

"Luna was here, by the way," he said, "I don't know if anyone else told you. But I thought you might like to know."

And with that, he was gone, leaving Neville alone to his suddenly teeming thoughts.

--

**Chapter Eight**

Discharged from St Mungos, Neville finalises his lesson plans for the upcoming school year. A random post-it note floats onto his desk and is, of course, from Luna. They tentatively re-establish their friendship, though Neville continues feeling slightly uncomfortable, the memory of their unpleasant Diagon Alley meeting still fresh in his mind.

The chapter ends with Neville getting a wedding invite to Luna and Rolf's engagement party Saturday August 27th (year is 2005 by my calculations). After a short debate with himself, Neville pulls out a piece of parchment and begins writing his acceptance.

---

**Chapter Nine**: the weekend before Hogwarts starts (i.e. last weekend in August)

I had planned a small confrontation between Neville and Rolf at some point in here, with Rolf being very mild and courteous but boring and Neville being polite but barely hiding his barbed insults. It resulted in Neville storming over to Grimmauld Place and fuming, "That smooth talking git wouldn't know the difference between a wrackspurt and nargle", with Harry showing some bemusement at the comparison.

However, he soon calms down and becomes slightly morose, admitting that for all his dislike of Rolf, Rolf _isn't _a bad sort, and if Luna loves him then- well-

"Ron's a pygmy puff."


	8. A Hogsmeade Weekend

With some cruel irony, nature had produced the most beautiful August day Neville had seen the entire year. A fresh breeze wafted through the trees, the leaves swaying as though in an intricate dance. The sun beamed its approval onto the grounds, and even the clouds, who had been some source of comfort to Neville in the past few days, had decided to go on vacation. In short, it was perfect summer's day.

A perfect summer's day in which Luna was getting engaged.

To a man other than him.

Feeling vindictive, he kicked a tree stump outside Hagrid's. Immediately afterwards, he realised what an immature action it was and thanked Merlin that it was a Hogsmeade weekend, so fewer students were around to witness his foolishness.

After all, if Luna loved Rolf, then- she loved him, and he was- (should be) happy for her. If she was happy, that was enough. _  
_

But, oh Merlin, he should have asked her before she'd gone on that wretched trip and met that bloody Rolf Scamander. She didn't even _know _Rolf before that, and he didn't know her! _They _hadn't reformed the DA, _they _hadn't stood together during the last fight at Hogwarts, _they _hadn't battled through the aftermath of the War together! And yet _they _were getting married.

_You should talk to Luna, _Ginny had told him.

But it hurt too much to even look at her.

_You should talk to Luna. _

Neville was caught by a sudden strong urge to Apparate to the party, run up, demand that it be stopped instantly- but what would come of that? It was already too late. They were already engaged, and the wedding was certain to follow.

Would Luna look for him? Would she, perhaps, turn around before she said the fatal words _I do? _Would she seek him, if only as a friend?

He tossed a pebble into the lake, almost hating it for being so calm.

"That won't be useful if you want to search for the orange-tailed cactypul," said a small voice from behind him.

"_Luna?" _he breathed incredulously.

It was Luna, with her shining eyes, her distant smile, her quiet composure- Luna, with a bizarrely coloured piece of string dangling from one side of her hair- Luna, who he hadn't seen for weeks, but it felt both like minutes and years- _Luna. _

It was too good to be true. He darted his eyes around, searching for Rolf Scamander- when would he appear and pompously greet Neville, too? Perhaps enquire as to "what had prevented him from joining in the festivities"?

"Rolf isn't here," Luna told him quietly, and Neville, his heart pounding, stared at her, not daring to believe-

Luna wouldn't have- she couldn't _possibly _have-

"… We called off the engagement, yes," said Luna, slightly distantly.

Neville swallowed.

"I'm- sorry," he said, not feeling sorry at all. Luna looked at him, smiling, and placed a finger on his lips.

A strange feeling swept through Neville's entire body. He must have dreamed of this moment, in the back of his mind, waited for it for years, and _here _he was; Luna's eyes locked on _him, _longingly-almost hungrily, her lips faintly parted.

"We both know you're not sorry," she whispered, her face tantalisingly close to his. "You're a horrible liar."

Neville laughed shakily.

"What happened, then?"

Luna paused and looked across the lake, her brow furrowed.

"It was Rolf who initiated it, really," she said thoughtfully. "He told me I'd been acting strangely ever since you ended up in St Mungo's." She gave him a significant look. "I insisted I was fine, that I was still happy and ready to go ahead with the engagement and the marriage, but-"

"But what?" Neville's heart was pounding in his ears.

"I couldn't," she said simply. "I remembered sixth year. I remembered how angry you had been when Harry left me at Slughorn's party. Then I remembered seventh year- the DA, how you'd always watch out for everyone, try to protect the first and second years by taking them in and teaching them all those spells. I remember-" her breath hitched a moment- "I still remember how you took a Cruciatus for me when I wasn't looking. And then I kept remembering, and remembering, and it was like a Wrackspurt had my brain, all I could think of was you and how much I regretted that wretched fight."

_Hence the letters. _

The letters to which he hadn't quite replied.

It felt as though there was a whirlpool inside his stomach. This was the most Luna had told him in months- years, even- but beneath the crash of emotions, he felt incredibly light and giddy. Because Luna remembered _him _and had been thinking of _him- _and

"You came," he said wonderingly, instead. "You came and found me when I was such a git."

Luna looked at him cheerfully.

"Actually, Rolf made me come," she admitted, slightly shamfacedly. "I wanted to, but I wasn't sure if that was simply me being silly- then he took me aside and told me that it didn't feel right, that he was sure I needed to sort something out with 'that Longbottom fellow'- and so I told him that I _couldn't _go ahead with the engagement, I simply couldn't. So he told me it wouldn't go ahead."

Neville stared at her.

"Wrackspurt got your brain?" she half whispered and he shook his head, smiling.

"No- I just owe Rolf, that's all."

She looked at him and beamed. Her face glowed in the sunlight and her eyes, half closed now, were still bright. In them, he could read tenderness, forgiveness, hope- and, as the distance between them slowly narrowed- expectance_. _

And so, almost of their own accord, his hands floated up to cup her face as he leaned in and kissed her. She reached up and pulled him closer, the skin of her hand burning the nape of his neck, and any doubts fled his mind. And as he drowned on dry land, he forgot the pain and angst of the past months, he forgot where he was, he forgot-

"_PROFESSOR LONGBOTTOM!" _

- that he was at Hogwarts, and that he was now a teacher.

Luna pulled away from him first, shaking slightly with laughter.

"I think, Professor Longbottom, that for the sake of your poor students, we ought to-"

"Find a room?" he grinned, and she laughed aloud.

"I haven't been here for years. Lead on, Professor."

And as he laced his fingers between hers, the sun continued to beam down from the bright sky as their laughter echoed across the grounds.

_A/N: Extended for fledge, who pointed out quite correctly that Luna needs to reveal her reasons for breaking the engagement at some point, in some form, or the story is quite flat indeed. _


End file.
